WritersCo - Death's Presence

Death’s Presence
By Erina Leask

Against the moon I’m but a star,
The rose, I’m but a thorn.
Not nearly near, nor far too far.
No love and yet no scorn.

I am dear feared, but it’s not meant,
I did not choose this fate.
Unseen I came, unseen I went.
Too early and too late.

I am the chill atop the breeze,
The shadow at your feet.
You sense me with your slight unease,
But never we do meet.

I am the feeling as you cry,
When hearts are torn in two.
I am the whisper of your sigh,
Its me and its not you.

Among the branches of the night,
I’m always lost not found.
The ghostly touch that gives you fright,
The mistake of a sound.

And so I sit upon my grave,
Where I am meant to rest.
It is that peace that I do crave,
Not this sorrow in my chest.

I’ll be with you, in your despair,
The corner of your eye.
You’ll turn to look; I’ll not be there,
Yet never be to far.